“like a church bell, a coffin, and a vat of melted chocolate, a supply closet is rarely a comfortable place to hide.” // l. snicket

perhaps not, but i’m still looking for a cozy place to hole up and hide out.

it was not a good day today. and at the time of writing this, there’s nothing i’d like more than to smash a pizza in my gob, watch some FNL and call it a night. barring that, i can screen-shop and recede deep into this gloomy corner of my mind and look forward to dark, windy days when i can hunch my shoulders, exhale a thick breath, wrap a fuzzy scarf around my neck and pop the collar on my over-sized coat to keep out this cool blue i’m feeling.

August 28, 2014

“if you cannot do great things, do small things in a great way.” // n. hill

for a moment, my eyes played a trick on me – and i thought how apt, that napoleon bonaparte cited both ends of the size spectrum in a such an erudite way. he was a big man in ideas – wearing (moderately) small shoes.

it’s clear that one should never discount those who appear to be small, those items that seem too delicate, perhaps even fragile. looks can be very deceiving, when countered with the weight of what they convey. it’s how i feel about certain pieces i’ve worn, or have recently swooned over – the power they impart may not be so obvious, but that’s the trick – they’re weight doesn’t directly correspond to their heavy significance…

“if you’re not really having a good time, it’s not worth it.” // k. chandler

it’s hard not to fall prey to the hype machine.

especially when that machine is telling you how absolutely remarkable that lotion, balm, or colour will make you look. it’s hard to resist when every other page of a magazine is extolling the virtues of a product when ultimately the only thing at work is payola. and you see, it’s even harder to suss when it’s not a pair of shoes that you fall easily for, but for a quick hit at your local sephora that gives you that ultimate rush.

though i hope today will eventually turn out to be a huge helping of hyperbole, the threat of a 40° degree day cannot go unnoticed.

it’s actually met with much fretting and even more apprehension. what does one wear exactly, for weather akin to a bowl of cream soup? how does one get comfort when the overriding feeling was that summer was thiiiiiiiiiiis close to being over and we almost got through it without much agony? also, how am i supposed to reign in this hair???

i’m at a loss. i am never prepared for this, and it doesn’t matter that the possibility of it comes every summer. the most one can do is be thankful for end-0f-season sales and hope that the swelter doesn’t come before the package arrives. it’s too late for me, but save yourselves…

“it is fatal to be a man or woman pure and simple; one must be woman-manly or man-womanly.” // v. woolf

i find it so absolutely bizarre that it took this long for me to realize a key quotient in the sum-total of bianca; but, finally – it’s clear – i’m rather woman-manly.

the is hair long and curly, the eyes are always done, and the odds of me donning a bifurcated garment is nigh never.

skirts and frocks dominate, and bangles and baubles are never far behind. the thing is though – all this girlishness is diluted by a just a smidgen of boyishness. tattoos dress my wrists, spikes and daggers are the ideal pendants and a skulls are my preferred emblem.

but really, all you’d really need to figure out that i’m comfortable with both sides of the genitive coin, is to look at my shoes. dainty and delicate, they definitely are not-ever-never.

go for heavy, round-toed and black – and you’re in my boy-shoe wheelhouse.